Beautiful Murderer
by ArmedWithAPen
Summary: The Droid General pays a visit to the bane of his existence. Grievous/Shaak Ti, more or less. One-shot.


_A/N: A quick one-shot, based on a drawing from DeviantArt. Before some battle, somewhere, on some distant planet, Grievous pays a visit to the enemy General. Enjoy!_

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the following characters, no matter how many stars I wish upon...*sigh*. Jimminy Cricket can take a hike.

* * *

There she was.

Just lying there.

Breath easing in and out. In and out. A gentle uninterrupted rhythm.

So peaceful.

So vulnerable.

With a sharp hiss, Grievous extended a single lightsaber. The dark room lit up in an eerie blue glow, shadows quivering as the General stalked forward, slowly, noiselessly.

She would not know he had been here.

She would not even know she had died.

There were so many crueler ways he had killed. So many he had killed.

She would be no different. This Togruta, this Jedi, this foul creature that had betrayed his people and who didn't deserve to live.

This woman who had invaded his mind, ensnared his thoughts, his words.

His hand trembled when he came to the side of her cot. She did not stir. She was blissfully unaware, lekku streaming around her form like frozen segments of a waterfall. Her eyelashes flickered as she dreamed.

She was so beautiful. So beautiful it was difficult to look at her without stopping breathing.

He raised his blade higher, the trembling tip poised over her sunset chest. The saber hummed nonchalantly. Grievous was more conflicted.

This Jedi was one of the greatest warriors he had ever faced. She was different from the others. She was kind, compassionate, respectful, and skilled. No matter how she tried to hide it behind a carefully constructed exterior, her eyes always threatened to overflow with chained emotion.

He respected her.

For some reason, he found himself speaking to her. Softly, gently. He didn't want to wake her.

"I do not wish to do this, Jedi. But I am afraid I have no choice."

She did not move, but her breathing quieted.

"It is my duty to destroy you. My duty to my people, to my lord, and to my mind."

Suddenly, with such gentleness he didn't notice at first, a slow, beautiful smile stretched across her rose lips.

She seemed to understand.

This broke him.

In the span of an instant, he sheathed the sword, fell to his knees, and lowered his head. His duty to his people, to Sidious, to Dooku, and to his mind.

But not to his heart.

He couldn't do it. No matter how much he tried, he would never be able to kill this woman in front of him.

Raising his golden eyes, he looked at her face, still smiling, turned away from him on the pillow.

He truly was a wretched, miserable creature.

To become so entangled in a Jedi.

He didn't know quite how much power she held over him, this insignificant female, this murderer, this killer.

A lot.

And this tortured him more than any other thing he had ever known in his horrible life.

He didn't understand it, this feeling. It had been forgotten. It had been swept away with the remnants of the shuttle crash that had taken his previous life, his flesh, and reincarnated him in metal and steel.

He wondered why. Why him? Why her? His life had been plenty complicated before she decided to enter it.

She stirred once more in her rest, and a sunset hand dangled over the edge of the cot. He glanced at it once, reached out with his own impulsively as if to touch it, but withdrew at the sight of the manufactured claws next to the unsullied white palm.

She was the most beautiful murderer he had ever seen.

With a wry smirk, the General looked one last time at her moon-drenched face. "Until tomorrow, Jedi."

And he left, already mapping out in his mind how he might kill her tomorrow in battle, a fair fight, thus ridding himself of this bothersome emotion, and any guilt if he killed her in cold blood.

He'd allow her to defend herself, like the warrior she prided herself to be. He'd defeat her fairly. He'd take her life as his prize, and her lightsaber as his trophy.

But, in his heart of hearts, he knew he'd never be able to do it. Not even if he wanted to.

She'd already slain his desire to kill.

* * *

_A/N: I try SO hard to keep Grievous in character, but he fights me every step of the way. Review! Did I get it right? _


End file.
